Applesauce Footprints, part 3

With her eyes intent on the snow at her feet, Annie answered him. “I do want a tree. But—but this is all I have.” She thrust her mittened fist towards him and opened it to reveal the three precious coins. Then, slowly, she closed her hand and let her arm drop hopelessly to her side.

“Your dad getting’ well now?” Mr. Henderson asked.

“Y—yes sir, he’s doing better. He might be going back to work—soon.” She looked away, know her words weren’t really true. Annie had heard the talk between her folks, her mother saying a man with only half a stomach, and next to no appetite, had no business tramping the roads in the dead of winter looking for work.

“That’s great, glad to hear he’s feelin’ better,” Mr. Henderson commented. “Now, about this here tree business—let me see.” Mr. Henderson rubbed his stubbled chin and scrunched his brows together as though he were making a great decision. He began to move through the trees, then turned back and smiled at Annie.

“We have a special sale on—just for today!” he announced. “Any tree in this section,” he pointed towards a group of dry, shapeless candidates for kindling. “Take your pick—fifty cents!”

Annie’s mitten closed tighter around the three coins. She had saved them since summer after long, hot hours of hoeing the garden, then picking potato bugs off the plants in the garden at a penny for every twenty-five bugs.

Calculating that at fifty-cents a tree she would have enough left over to buy a bag of Christmas candy, she closed her eyes and pointed toward the trees for sale.

“I’ll take that one!” she blurted out, and extended her hand, then opened it. Holding her breath, she waited for the feel of two of the precious coins to be taken.

Mr. Henderson moved a few feet away from the trees that were “on sale” and picked up a beautiful, full evergreen.

Annie, her eyes still tightly shut, waited. She could hear a crunch of footsteps, then a gentle touch on her mitten. Trembling, she forced herself not to jerk her hand back. When she opened her eyes, two of the precious coins were gone. She felt about as lonely as the single coin in her hand appeared.

“Got a deal,” Mr. Henderson said, and held the beautiful tree out to her.

“Thank—thank you,” Annie stammered at the wondrous site the tree made. Stooping, she clutched the tree by its trunk to drag it home: its bulk and full branches made it impossible for her to do anything else with it. Half a block away she turned and waved. Mr. Henderson waved back.

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